


Stay

by Name1



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Babies, F/M, Family Feels, Fluff, Pregnancy, idiots to lovers, relationships aren't easy but worth it, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:21:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25834897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Name1/pseuds/Name1
Summary: Follow up sequel/prequel to 'You Don't Say'"She's definitely your daughter," he says fondly. "Look at her, already trying to punch things. She'll have everything she wants, but we’ll see to it she can take care of herself too. She'll be a force to be reckoned with and I can't wait to see it.""Then stay?” she hears herself say. “We can work everything else out." She's not sure if it's a request or a question or a combination of the two but he doesn't give her time to agonize over it."I'm staying."
Relationships: Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Cara Dune & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Cara Dune/The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 65





	Stay

**Author's Note:**

> hi everyone,  
> work has been insane but I tried to get this wrapped up as quickly as I could. 
> 
> Forgive the numerous typos, I'll go back and edit tomorrow :)  
> Sorry if this is slightly ooc. I need fluffy baby feels.

Cara's attention is turned to the sound of joyful shrieks coming from the living room.

Din is sitting on the floor with his legs in a V-shape where Bean repeatedly throws himself over the mountain of his bent knee and outstretched leg. She thinks it's pretty damn funny but the one who thinks it's even more amusing is their other bean, Lyssa, almost 9 months old now, where she has a tight fist around each of Din's index fingers on either side of her. Even as little as she is, she's positively striking with her dark hair and dark eyes. Though Cara knows which features are all her and can only guess which are Din's, he delights in telling her all the time how much their daughter takes after him. The eyes he says; the shape of her chin, and the lobes of her ears are like looking in a mirror to him. Even the cupid bow of her tiny mouth and the shape of her wrists he says is all him.

She's getting heavier by the day now, but he holds her upright using only her grip on his fingers to hold her wobbly legs in a standing position. Her chunky little feet are thinning out and losing some of the baby fat but the round bottom padding her sole won't really go away until the starts walking. Cara knows it'll happen soon, but not at the rate Din spoils her--he almost never lets her fat little toes touch the ground. He scoops her up constantly and she spends more time in his arms than anywhere else. 

"You know she has to learn to walk on her own at some point." Cara tells him

"Why?" Din asks. "I can carry her anywhere she wants to go."

Her little feet almost never touch the ground with how he coddles her and even her little bottom rarely graces the floor; choosing instead, the crook of his elbow where she has the best seat in the house to look down upon her kingdom. She stomps her little feet signaling she wants to go forward and Din shifts behind her to stretch his arms further to give her more range to toddle forward. She lets go of one of his hands and reaches out to Bean and he sits patiently while she rubs his fuzzy ear. 

“Gently,” Cara reminds her, but it's not necessary. Even as an impulsive baby, she's uncharacteristically gentle with her brother and he simply loves the attention. Whenever there's a knock on the door, he positions his little body in front of hers protectively. What lingering hormones she has from breastfeeding make her heart melt a little more at how protected this little girl is in a galaxy that hasn't always been kind. Anyone wanting to harm Lyssa would have to get through Cara herself, then Din, and finally a baby jedi. _Good luck assholes._

After the threat Gideon posed had been eliminated with unlikely help from this "race of enemy sorcerers," that turned out not to be enemies after all, she and Din had been less wary about approaching them about Bean's gifts. Because of this new alliance, they had new friends and more importantly the kid had gotten some real training and time with those who share his unique abilities, though they had never come across one as powerful as him. It was almost funny how much power and strength was contained in such a small and fuzzy body. How could someone so small and sweet be capable of bringing down civilizations and bending the will of his enemies to bring them to their knees? If fear was the weakness of those who use the force, they had been assured their kid was safe. Because of them, he only knew love, and peace, and warmth and had forgotten what fear was almost entirely. He loves showing off his new tricks and no one loves it more than Lyssa. 

Despite his endless potential to control fire and raze buildings to the ground, floating toys and flickering lights were the best tricks to him. He'd learned how to bring the cookies closer across the table when they weren't looking, and bits of vegetables would "disappear off his plate even though they knew he didn't eat them. They never could figure out where they went--they just disappeared. 

Like his sister, the kid with the adorable ears also preferred Din's arms when he finished exploring about on his short little legs. It was rare she saw Din walking around without the pair of them, one in each arm. It had become so common to see him ferrying the two around in casual clothes she wondered how they got here, and when he rarely donned his armor it was a downright humorous sight to behold--a formidable warrior adopted into a race of fighters carting around two "babies" like their own personal transportation service. 

"You spoil both of them, you know," she tells him, from where he's corralled them in the play area between his legs and the wall. He dotes on them--they were nothing short of spoiled, but it could never be any other way. She truly could never imagine a better father in the whole system.

"So you say, riduur." His cheeks were warm from the praise and Cara pointing out his obsession with keeping them close.

"Where's my spoiling?" she teases him.

She can practically see his smile under the layer of beskar. "I'll spoil _you_ later."

She cocks an eyebrow at him in challenge. "You have to get both of them asleep first--no small feat, even for a Mandalorian."

"I can manage pretty much anything with the right motivation, or did you already forget last night?"

The heat in his words matches the heat spreading in her belly. It had taken months after Lyssa was born and the sleepless nights settled out that they had they had leapt over their reservations and become closer physically again. While her body had changed since the last heated encounter on that old bed in the village outskirts on Sorgan, intimacy with him was everything she remembered and more.

"If we have too many more ' _last nights_ ' you're going to run out of arms to hold spoiled children. 

Their daughter interrupts them by babbling a 'babababa' sound makes a grasping fist motion over and over again, a gesture they both know is really a command and Din obediently scoops up both son and daughter and walks over to where Cara has made herself comfortable on the couch to deposit the little girl into her waiting arms. She barely has time to get her comfortable before Lyssa is burying herself under her shirt and latching on with gusto. It almost takes her breath away. It doesn’t matter how many times they do this, it still amazes her--they made this tiny perfect human and her body was capable of not only creating this little person but still sustaining and comforting her months later. It both thrilled and terrified her for months that such a tiny helpless creature was entirely dependent upon her for survival. They've tried mashed up fruits recently, but neither was ready to give up this comfort. Cara wasn’t ready to give it up at least….

"I'm going to grab this other monster a snack," Din calls out across the living room while still holding the greener of their kids in his arms."

He heads to the kitchen and gets the kid a bowl of soft grains and mixes in some sweet berries that makes the kid lick his lips in anticipation. He brings the kid to the couch where he can eat in his lap and they can sit next to Cara and Lyssa as she enjoys her meal. They all know she'll drift off when she's done, but Bean will just sit beside his sister until she wakes up again so they can play. When Din gets the kid comfortably in his lap, he presents the bowl, and Bean attacks it with the same exuberance as his sister and Din chuckles. 

He looks over to Cara where her head is resting drowsily on the back of the couch just as it had the first night he stayed at her house after his return to Nevarro and to a reality entirely new and scary yet exciting with uncharted possibility. He doesn't want to speak in case she's drifting off but she surprises him by speaking first and opens her eyes to look at his helmet resting on his bare neck above the collar of his loose shirt. "Do you think we'll ever get tired of this domestic tranquility?" she asks.

"No, not after the lives we've had. Why?” he asks. “Do you think you will?” To be honest, he had wondered the first few days what life would look like planet-side and would he fear he was missing out or selling out--like he didn't deserve a good calm life after everything he'd done in the past, but that hadn't even lasted a few days. This was an adventure right here, in his lap. On this couch. All around him.

"No, a life like this was so impossible, so out of the picture, I could never even let myself imagine it,” she tells him, “but it's something I don't know I could give up now that I've seen it with my own eyes. I love the life we have now, but even now I get this feeling sometimes like maybe it's not real-- a dream or something. I just don't know how we got here when years ago things were so different.”

Din has an answer for that. "Well, it all happened that one night after you stripped me naked had your way wi--"

"Oh, shut up,” she laughs. “Don't make me hit you while I'm holding a baby." He often teased he about that night and how much braver she was than him.

"She's not that much of a baby anymore," he says wistfully, looking at the length of his daughter’s legs and torso across Cara's lap and extending further onto the couch than she used to. Cara admits she could be talked into having another one of these.....No matter how full Din's arms were, she didn't think he'd need much convincing either. 

"I'm glad you decided to come back to Nevarro when you did," she tells him.

"Me too. What I would have missed......"

Din thinks back to the first few days of uncertainty. How could he have had a single reservation about settling down here?

After all, how could fighting for your life be better than warm nights at home sleeping on clean sheets? How cold getting shot and patching himself up alone be better than he and Cara taking care of each other’s minor cuts and bruises? How could it be better than taking care of the scrapes on Lyssa’s knees when she crawled across the floor? How cold meals eaten in silence be better than food all over the table and two children wearing more of their dinner than ever made it into their mouths? How could life without Cara ever be better than a life with her in it? He knew now more than ever that life wasn't about how you spent your life but who you spent it with. How could a life of uncertainty and work be better than days of comfort and bliss? It simply couldn’t.

There was no glamour in bounty hunting--the fun and thrill of the chase maybe, but now he had the thrill of chasing little feet around the house and when they were older he and Cara could explore the galaxy again and pickup any jobs they wanted. These years were few and precious and he wouldn’t wish the time to go by faster for anything. Adventure and danger could kiss his ass. Between the Imps, the other Mandaloian tribes, and civil wars he'd witnessed planet-side, he'd had enough for one lifetime

.................................................

After his return

She and Din had made their way back to the cantina for a cool drink and though the walk was quiet from all the things still unsaid and unasked it wasn't awkward or heavy. She knew the dam would break soon, so for now they filled it with small talk. Greef had joined them and Din said he intended to stick around for a while--as long as she wanted him here. He told them he could walk back and forth from the Crest so as not to invade on her privacy, but to Cara that seemed like so much walking in the heat day after day.

Greef’s head snapped to the side when he heard her next words. "Don't be ridiculous. You can stay with me," she tells their mutual friend, when it's clear he doesn't want to impose but wants to be close by.

Greef spoke up as he stared Cara down. "Can I talk to you outside for a minute?"

She struggles to get up as large and awkward as she had become--more landwhale than human, by this point--but got to her feet with his considerable help. She followed him outside and turned to face him, her face half in the sun. "Well, what is it?" she asks impatiently.

  
"You don't think this is moving a little fast?" he asks her, but manages to make it sound more like a statement than a question.

"I appreciate your concern, but we have a lot to talk about and it'll be easier if it happens naturally in the comfort of my home than on planned visits with a timeline as the sun goes down. He'd lose hours everyday walking back and forth-- _hours_ we could use to hash things out and find some common ground.

"He just came back hours ago," the older man reminds her. "You don't know what his intentions are." Why does he feel like an asshole pushing back against something he knows she's wanted but would never voice out loud. He doesn't want to be the bad guy here--the truth is he likes Din—he’s known him for years and knows he's a good guy. "Look," he says quieter, and forces his posture to relax, "I just don't want to see you get hurt."

"Whatever his intentions are," she argues, "I'm glad he's here right now—this very moment." She feels some of the wind fall out of her sails at the protective look on Greef’s face. “Look, he knows about _her_. That's more than I could have dreamed of months ago. I'm not going to push him away because you think I should be mad at him or hold a grudge against something that he didn't know about and wasn't his fault."

_God he hates to ask this,_ he thinks, but he has to. He doesn't want to watch her mask slip into place to stoically hold it together if he turns and leaves again in a few days. He wants everything to work out, but being prepared for the worst never hurt. "And what if he leaves again?"

Cara doesn’t seem offended. "Then I'll _watch_ him leave--I'm not going to beg him to stay. I'll raise her by myself like I've been prepared to do.”

"Don't get me wrong, Cara," he tries to reason with her. "I don't think he's a bad guy but he's coming in at the tail end of all these months of hardship. I've had to watch you suffer while he's been off doing stars knows what. Don't make it too easy on him."

"You want me to say I wish he had been here the whole time? Fine, I do. You want me to say it would have been easier to not have to do this by myself? Fine, it would have. But you're making it sound like he's some deadbeat who took running when I told him he knocked me up and that's not what happened.

“He didn't leave me when he found out I was pregnant because he never _found out_ at all. He left to take care of the kid. How can I blame him for not knowing when I didn't even know myself?

I don't NEED him here, but I want him here if it's what he wants too. _That's_ what these next few days or weeks will tell me. And if after everything's on the table, he wants to stick around, then I won't push him away. I'm not leaping into his arms or rushing out to marry the guy, but he deserves a chance to be a father if he wants to be. She might not have been conceived on purpose, but if he views her as an accident and doesn't want this responsibility then that's his choice. No matter what, she's still the best damned accident I've ever had.”

Greef sighs as he recognizes he's already lost this argument. "He still should have been here, Cara. And I'm not letting him off the hook just because you are, until I know what he plans to do to make things right."

"Greef, I know you think I'm giving him a free pass to walk all over me or something, but I'm not. You're right, there is a part of me somewhere that feels hurt and angry, but this isn't about me, and it's not really even about Din. It's about _her_."

She looks down and realizes her hands are holding her belly purely on instinct. She's defending her tiny passenger and her hands moved to a protective position all on their own. " _She_ deserves me to give this a chance." She looks down at her stomach and sees the fabric move the slightest bit as her daughter shifts to find a better position. In close to a month she'll be in her arms but she can't help but wonder if she'll miss these times: these movements, having her close and easy to protect; feeling her every move and knowing she's safe and warm and inside her. She regards her friend again. "Or do you think she's better off without a father?"

"No, of course not,” he says, without question.

"I didn't think so."

Greef attempts to reassure her. "I'm sure everything will work out, but no matter what happens, she'll have you, and her pretty awesome favorite Godfather."

"You're unbelievable,” she tells him with a laugh. "Favorite, really? You've gone senile these past few months, Karga."

"And you've gone soft these past few months, Dune."

"That was one time!' she tells him, wondering if she'll ever live down the humiliation of breaking down in front of him. "I'm not going to start crying on you again, but know this. I'm grateful for everything you've done for me--for both of us. You didn't have to, but you did. Not just what you've given me but having you in my corner when I had no one. I'll never be able to repay you for it all, but I have to do this part on my own."

"I know. Just be careful, okay. Don't take any shit from him," he tells her.

"I don't take shit from anybody,” she reminds him with her best serious face.

"Except me sometimes,” he says with pride. “The fact I don't have a broken nose right now means you like me."

She makes an exaggerated scoffing sound, pretending to be offended. "Come, on. I don't even _listen_ to you. Did we just have a conversation? I already forgot."

"I don't know why I like you Dune."

"Me neither boss man, let's go back inside before we bake out here." 

"You should put your feet up..." he reminds her.

"Oh, shut up." He s such a worrier.

"....and have some more water,” he adds in, in case she forgot.

"Greef......"

"....and a snack. It's been hours since you ate."

"Give it a rest, old man. You're worse than the old biddies from town."

They must have been outside longer than they thought because Din was standing when they came back in. Greef makes some excuse and makes himself scarce in the back room and suddenly it's just him and Cara and the metal pram holding the kid while he naps, oblivious to the life changing events of the past hour. "Look, I don't want to impose......." 

_Typical Din_ , she thinks, but the time for pussyfooting around had long since passed. She has weeks, maybe less before this baby is born and she has very little patience these days with the heat and the ankle swelling and the heartburn.

"I wouldn't offer if you were imposing," she assures him. "We can catch up whenever it feels right if you're close by." Regardless of this discovery he made that changed everything, they'd always been the closest of friends and definitely something just on the other side of friends--they could do this--they could talk like functional adults. He had been looking forward to spending time with her and catching up, now he just has a lot more to look forward to. 

"Okay,” he agrees cautiously, “but if me and the kid are too disruptive you tell me, and I'll make arrangements that will impose on you less."

"Agreed. But I'm fine with it, really,” she tells him again, hoping this will be the end of the negotiations. “It's Greef who says I'm an idiot to let you stay with me, and he can shove it."

"Why did he say that?" Din asks, unsure if he wants to hear the answer.

Cara sighs. "He thinks I'm rushing things,” she explains.

Din speaks when he thinks he has it figured out. "He thinks you should be angry with me....” He nods along in agreement as he looks at it from the other man's point of view. "He's probably right."

_So they're really going to do this right now?_ she thinks in amazement, at the turn the conversation had taken. ashe thought they'd ease into it over the next few days, but maybe this was better. _Okay, let's do this._

"How is he right?” she asks him sincerely. "This isn't _your fault_. If we're playing the blame game, then it's my fault more than yours. I made the first move."

He makes a disbelieving sound at her assessment. "If you hadn't come on to me, I would have come on to you. I couldn't keep my eyes off of you or my hands for that matter. In my defense, it would have been more awkward and you probably would have laughed at my attempts to seduce you, but still....I would have tried if you hadn’t taken the first step and saved me the embarrassment."

She can't help but laugh. _Damn it. She didn't want it to be this easy._ She had hardly laughed in months, but she shouldn't have been surprised. He'd always been able to make her laugh. "Is _that_ what I did, _seduce_ you?" she asks him, a hint of familiar teasing in her voice.

"Just you _breathing_ , seduces me," he tells her honestly, and she refuses to blush--it's just this damn desert heat on her cheeks, that’s all. 

Suddenly Din wants to touch her. It’s been such a long time and he flew halfway across the system to hopefully put his arms around her. Everything is so different and so ‘ _the same’_ when he hears her laugh that he can hardly keep his fingers from twitching.

"Can I put my arms around you, just for a second?” he asks her. “I'll try not to seduce you again."

"If you can somehow reach all the way around me, good luck,” she jokes with him. “And no offence, but the only thing that’s going to seduce me right now is a back rub and a cool bath. If you got me on my back right now, I'm so round that I might never get up again."

He can’t believe he’d missed her smart mouth. “Shut up and let me hug you.” His arms wrap around her back as hers do the same, but they have to angle their bodies away from each other slightly to make room for her belly to fit between them. He can feel it pressed against him and wishes he wasn't still wearing his armor; maybe he'd be able to feel the baby move again if he was only in a soft shirt.

"I missed this," he tells her quietly. At least this part was easy.

"I missed your stupid face,” she tells him, and rests her cheek against his shoulder.

"I missed your sweet words and gentle disposition,” he fires right back, and is careful to rest his helmet gently against her hair.

She breathes out a heavy sigh. "We have a lot to talk about."

"Yeah, we do,” he agrees, so quietly the microphone hardly picks it up, “but not right this second. There's no rush."

Neither one of them moves for several minutes. 

.....................................

“When I left Nevarro, I didn't want to ask for more than you were willing to give or more than you were looking for, but I'll ask now when I should have asked then." He wanted to have this conversation with his helmet off, but rays of light were still streaming in as the sun set for the night. Cara never saw the helmet anyway. 

"Ask what?" she inquires, unsure where he’s going with this.

"Will you stay with me.....or let _me_ stay with _you_? We can try doing this ‘ _life’_ thing together? We can figure it out as we go. We're good at that."

They hadn't donned their armor in months, and it sat carefully stacked in the corner. Neither one of them had ever worn soft shirts and pants for such a long time before but it was a strange luxury worth getting used to. They had both changed everything and nothing at all to be sitting together in bed right now in their soft sleep clothes--the fuzzy green kid tucked against her side with his ears relaxed against her, and Lyssa in Din's arms, snoring little innocent baby snores as she napped. The bed was definitely not made for four people, but she'd never felt this happy to share her space before. 

_Din wanted to stay._

She wanted him to stay too, but she had to make sure it was really out of desire and not some loving but misguided sense of responsibility.

"You're a good man Din," she tells him honestly, "better than someone like me deserves, that's for sure. I do want you to stay,” he reassures him. “The only holdup I have is this: I know there's a part of you that still feels guilty for not being here at the beginning and I don't want you staying out of guilt, or some feeling that you owe me something--you _don't_. You're her father and I'll never keep her from you, but you don't have to be stuck with me just to be able to see her. I don't want you to be trapped and I know you're too nice to say if you were."

It hurt him more than he thought it would, hearing how little Cara thought of herself and how she worried he'd only want to be with her because of Lyssa. Couldn't she see how amazing she was, all the reasons piled on top of each other he had to stay aside from their daughter? She might say it didn't bother her that he left Nevarro all those months ago, but at the very deepest level his absence had made her feel like she wasn't enough to stick around for back then, when it couldn't have been further from the truth. If she agreed to give this a chance, he could easily spend the rest of his life convincing her all the reasons he loved her. "You were the most important person in my life except for the kid, even back then,” he tell her, “I did a shitty job of showing it, but I'll do a better job of showing you what you mean to me if you give this a chance."

His words make an impact, but she’s still unsure. "And if one day you wake up and realize this isn't the life you thought it would be and you want to take off? You wouldn't stick with me just for Lyssa's sake?” she asks him, somehow staring right into his eyes.

"That won't happen,” he states, “but for the sake of the argument I'll say this:

we have always been honest with each other, Cara. If I thought I was being trapped or I felt like I didn't think it was working, I'd tell you--just as I hope _you'd_ tell _me_. You would, wouldn't you? if you wanted me to leave, you'd tell me? You wouldn't put up with me just for Lyssa's sake?”

That sounds ridiculous to her ears, but at least they’re having this discussion they’re been avoiding for quite some time--negotiating the terms of actually ‘ _being_ ’ together and not just living together. “I don't see a situation where that would happen but for the sake of argument--yes, Din, I'd tell you.”

He reaches out to hold her hand with the hand that wasn’t supporting Lyssa’s tiny fuzzy head. "We've always been honest and this is the most honest I've been. I couldn't stop thinking about you Cara--imagining you were there with us the whole time I was away. I wanted to come back everyday I was gone, and I wish I had come back earlier. Believe me when I say I WANT to be here. Do _you_ want me here?”

Din felt like he just jumped off a cliff not knowing if there were sharp jagged rocks, or cool calming water beneath him. He realized he was holding his breath. He can't remember a time they ever laid it out like this--no jokes, no puns, and no hidden meanings. 

She finally put him out of his misery.

"I _do_. I want you here, but..... I'm not really sure I know how to live without a fight. What if I'm terrible at it? The quiet life, I mean?"

"We'll figure it out,” he says confidently, giving her hand a firmer squeeze. “There's a lot more than fighting we can look forward to and the quiet doesn't have to last forever if we don't want it to. She won't be this small forever."

Cara’s distracted by the sight of his large hands holding such a tiny baby but he's so gentle she has a hard time remembering he ever lived a violent and rough life at all. He was really made for this—soft and nurturing—in a way she wished came as easily to her. He holds Lyssa almost the entire time she sleeps--day in and day out-- her back never resting in her crib by the bed even once. His hand runs over her baby dark fuzz on her head and feels the delicate dip where the plates are still separated. She's never seen someone touch another living thing with such gentleness and reverence. Din thinks of something else he wants to add. "I won't lie, the thought of being away from her for even a day seems the worst torture imaginable, but I didn't even know she existed when I came back, so what do you think I came back for Cara?"

She knows what he’s going to say but it still seems impossible he’d come back for just her, so she shrugs and tries to appear unaffected by what he’s implying. "I was going to come back here to surprise you and make some big grand speech to convince you to come with me,” he tells her, “but your surprise blew mine out of the water.” He waits until she looks at him again before saying the most important part. “I came back for _you_ , _just you_. I didn't know about the miracle we created that night; I came back because I just knew I wanted _you_ in my life. I still do."

"I do too." she says quietly; partly not to disturb the sleeping milk-drunk tyrant in his arms, and partly because it feels right to say it so softly.

There's nothing else to say as they sit side by side, Din giving her a break while he holds their sleeping daughter, who has no place she prefers over his arms. Her mouth makes a little sucking motion in her sleep and they both laugh quietly. "She must be dreaming," Din says.

One of her little fists reaches up toward her own face and her doting father catches it with his finger so she doesn't wake herself up. He runs a finger down her smooth fat cheek and the sucking motion stops as she falls back asleep. At least Cara can have a break from nursing for another twenty minutes if they're lucky.

"She's definitely your daughter," he says fondly. "Look at her, already trying to punch things. She'll have everything she wants, but we’ll see to it she can take care of herself too. She'll be a force to be reckoned with and I can't wait to see it."

"Then stay?” she hears herself say. “We can work everything else out." She's not sure if it's a request or a question or a combination of the two but he doesn't give her time to agonize over it. 

"I'm staying."

..............................................

Greef had known Din for years but in all that time he's always been quiet and elusive and _always_ alone. Then he shows up in the company of a former shocktrooper, _thick as thieves_ , and he even caught them laughing on more than one occasion. The former magistrate had never heard that sound from underneath beskar before. He observed them more closely. _Just what was their relationship--their connection to each other--to make her face down an E-Web and stay inside a burning building to comfort him when he was all but gone?_ In the days that passed since he left, Cara had tried to give him the rundown on how they met on Sorgan, but it still seemed unbelievable they had such an instant connection given what he'd known of Mando's quiet and isolated nature for years prior. _Maybe she'd brought out a new side to him_? She seemed pretty capable of just about anything, so that wasn't impossible. He could have sworn they were more than friends, but both Mando and Cara had insisted she was there to help him as a second gun and nothing more.

_Friends.....she had said. Friends my ass._

Despite her one-time suggestion to just _'shoot him and get out of here_ ', he had grown to really like Cara. She was strong and independent and smart-mouthed and didn’t take shit from anybody—almost a daughter he never had--which made it hard when she did something he didn’t agree with because she was a grown woman who didn’t need looking after, but he didn’t want to watch her self-destruct either.

Her feet crossed as her brain struggled to keep the room from spinning and she stumbled right in front of him. She reached out a hand and caught herself on the side of a table and breathed slowly through her nose until the vertigo passed. Greef looked up from the table covered in data pads and assorted papers to give her a disapproving look. 

"Have you seriously been drinking? Come on, the sun's barely come up, Dune."

"No, of course not,” she replies, but the words feel fuzzy in her mouth.

"Hungover then?" he inquires, while scrolling through the books, before putting them down to scold her properly. "I have no right to judge your personal life, but it's going to affect your ability to do your job if you're too hungover to stand."

"I'm not hungover old man, and I _haven't_ been drinking."

"You just stumbled over even ground and the past few days you've looked like you might puke any second. Lay off the sauce.” When she didn't instantly fire back a witty retort his face changed from disapproval to worry. Cara had been fiery and loud the first few weeks, but she was seeming less herself the last two weeks or so. He thought she’d just taken to drinking to forget her troubles, but maybe that wasn’t it.

He tries a gentler approach. "Hey, you feeling alright? You're not sick, are you?"

"Yeah I'm fine,” she assures him, as she turns away toward the exit. “It won't affect my ability to work. I just need a minute."

Greef tilted his head at her when she actually admitted she needed a minute. _That was it--she must be dying._

"I know a doctor, been friends for years. I trust him. He should take a look at you. You've been out in the desert and in the marshes after the rain--you might have picked up a parasite if you ingested any of the water."

"No doctors," she insists, as she reaches the door, though her voice isn't especially strong. "I just need a few minutes. I'll grab some water and be back in a second."

She opens the door to head outside but the second the hot air hit her face she turned to the side and vomits all over the ground.

Greef was at her side in a second, a hand on her back, the data pads all but forgotten. "Okay, no arguing. No work today.” He walks her out the alley and doesn't feel any sense of relief at how easy she's letting herself be led.

"Where are we going?" she asks, when she realizes her apartment is in the other direction.

" _You_ are going to wait at my apartment so I can keep an eye on you until I can call my friend."

"Greef, really. I can't afford a doctor. It'll pass." Her arms feel so heavy she's actually struggling to shrug him off. 

"It's been two weeks, Dune,” he argues. “Has anyone ever told you you're as stubborn as a sarlacc when they're being dug up and relocated for a housing development?"

"Once or twice."

Cara hated to admit it, but she knew something was wrong--she could just feel it somehow--something was off. Her subconscious kept giving her hints and suggestions but every time the same one presented itself time and time again, she squashed it down before she let herself even examine it too closely. The words that kept whispering at the edge of her consciousness were too unbelievable for her to give them even a second thought....

_Don't be ridiculous_ , she thought..... _of course she couldn't be_..... _that_ _word._

How utterly ridiculous. There were a thousand other things it could be….

…….

Greef's old friend came out of the back room where Cara had been resting and passed him on the way out the door. The doctor seemed to be in good spirits considering how sick Cara must have been to let Greef call him out here to begin with. There was even a knowing smile on his face. “Consider this one on the house, old friend,” the doctor said as he shook his hand and followed up with a mumbled a word that sounded an awful lot like _‘congratulations’_. _What the Hell was that about?_

When after several minutes Cara didn't come out of the room after him, Greef knocked and let himself in to make sure she was okay. She was out of the bed, but perched on the edge of the armrest of the sofa next to it and she was as pale as a ghost. Just what had that doctor said to her? _Was she getting worse?_

"Well?” he prompts her when she doesn’t say anything. “Is it something that'll just pass? Or is there some medicine he said to try? It's not chronic is it?” Greef tried not to let his imagination runway on him but she wasn’t speaking. He couldn't even imagine it being something more horrible than a passing malady brought on by the heat--certainly not terminal or degenerative--not to someone like her. After the life she'd had and the shit she'd lived through, it couldn't possibly be something that would take her out when she's finally gotten a semblance of a normal life. Her chain code was finally cleared and she could live as a free woman for the first time in almost five years. Whatever it was, they could find a better doctor--a specialist even. There were nearby systems with hospitals and clinics--whatever she needed. 

"Dune?"

She doesn't respond or even flinch to let on she heard his voice.

He tries again.

"Cara? You listening at all?"

She looked like she might drop any minute but doesn’t utter a word.

She's so unsteady on her feet and doesn’t seem to have the slightest grasp on where she is right now, so he pushes her shoulders until she makes contact with his sofa cushions. 

"Here, sit down," he tells her, and sits across from her on a wooden chair he pulled up. "What did he say?"

She stared off into the distance--at what he had no idea. When she finally spoke, her eyes were unfocused.

"I'm pregnant."

Almost a full minute-- _sixty long seconds_ \-- passes before he lets out a booming hearty laugh.

"Good one,” Greef says, “nice to know you haven't lost your sense of humor.” He rubs his own belly in a circle. "I'm pregnant too--all that spice cake."

"I'm not joking." She is still looking at the ground, or her feet, or something else entirely, but she isn't looking at Greef and she always looks him in the eyes when they talk. 

He keeps waiting for the punchline, or for her wicked grin to start creeping up her lips at getting one over on him, but it doesn't emerge. It sinks in. she’s not pulling his leg--not with THAT look on her face--the look of uncertainty only slightly masking the look of panic just underneath it. 

"But how?" he asks, and his face is a few shades lighter as well.

At this, she seems to snap out of whatever trance she was in. "You're a grown ass man! Did you seriously just ask me that? _How_?"

He splutters in his own defense. That had come out all wrong. "I mean. How _long_? How _far_?"

He tries to make sense of what she just told him. "I've never seen you give anyone the light of day since you agreed to stay here. I didn't even know you were seeing anyone."

"I'm not….."

His eyes got darker, and Cara could count on one hand the few times she’s ever seen him truly angry. "You're saying someone _did_ this to you?"

It takes her a fraction of a second to understand what he was implying without straight-up asking. "No, I…… no. Not _that_ …… it was very much consensual. Reckless but consensual.”

"It's one of the townspeople from the cantina then,” he concludes. “The father I mean?"

She shakes her head, though the motion makes her nauseous and she has to shut her eyes again.

"I don't get it Cara. Who is it I have to threaten? Is it someone I know? I've never seen you _interested_ in anyone. Actually,” he says with a chuckle, “the only person I've even seen you close with was Mand---Oh, shit." All the sudden, his chuckle is gone.

"Thank you for that summary of my life,” she tells him. "Yeah, oh shit."

He looks puzzled. "I didn't know you and he were ....."

"We're not," she insists, though the evidence seems to say otherwise. "It was once," she rephrases. It had technically been three times if one was splitting hairs, but just the one _night_ , and he certainly didn't need to know the details. 

"How many weeks?" he asks, gaining his wits about him.

"Almost three and a half months,” she replies, and his eyes go impossibly wide. 

_Damn_. He thought maybe' they'd met for a visit the last few weeks without him knowing, but it was only 6 weeks ago they'd all been on their bellies in the dirt avoiding getting blown up by a platoon of stormtroopers and Moff Gideon.

"Wait....just six weeks ago we were……” his brain catches up and he raises his voice. "You mean you were pregnant during the whole shitshow with the client and the flying beasts and the shootout with a few more than four stormtroopers?”

She hadn't even thought about that part. _Holy shit. She'd been pregnant then._ "Yeah, I guess so."

"Good gods, are you okay?” he asks sincerely. “You know…..” and he gestures awkwardly to her stomach.....

"Doctor said I am," she replies, "or _it_ is....whatever." She had mentally checked out for some of it but tries to give him the summary the doctor had given her. “He did some scans and everything looked perfectly according to plan. The last blow under my ribs was on Sorgan in a bar fight and he said they were too little at that point, where they were tucked away, for a blow under my ribs to have caused any damage anyway.”

"What are you going to do?” he asks her, once all this sinks in. “You're pretty far already, but you still have options. I'll help you however I can.”

She was surprised to realize she knew he meant it. "I know. Thank you, really. And I know I have options but only one of them seems right. I had long since given up on the dream of having kids. When I was younger, I actually thought I'd be a mother one day like everyone else, but then....everything happened....I don’t know. Maybe this is a gift and I shouldn't second guess the chance to have something I thought I'd lost the chance to ever have.

"How are you going to tell him?" he asks next, knowing the answer already.

She leans forward and rests her elbows on her knees so she can cover her face with her hands. "I can't. You know I can't."

"What do you mean, _'you can't'_? I know we all agreed we can't communicate because it's too risky, but he _has_ to know."

"You're right, he _should_ know,” she agrees, “but it's too risky, especially with all the transmissions we've intercepted lately about the new bounties on the kid's head. An open channel in either direction could put him at risk. I'd never forgive myself if I led them straight to him."

Greef sighs. "If he knew, he'd come back. He's an honorable man."

"I know,” she says, “but he has more important things to worry about. I can do this by myself."

"You don't have to. You've got _me_. I know absolutely zero about babies, but I can download some files on my datapad.”

That's what it takes to finally get her to laugh.

“Download all you want, as long as you don't think you're going to pass as a midwife when all this is said and done.”

He laughs along with her. “You're never too old to learn a new trade.”

Things quiet down as they both seem lost in thought.

She reminds him, "this doesn't leave this room for now. 

"Of course," he agrees. "But's going to be hard to hide it soon."

She confides in him the changes she’s already noticed but refused to accept. “I'm already struggling to get my pants fastened. I knew I'd put on some weight, but I thought it was just stress.” She guesses she can stop lying to herself now at least. She knew her abdomen was rounder and softer than it had ever been and her chest was hardly contained by even two sports bras anymore. 

"I thought I might be…. _you know_ , but it was so unbelievable.....so _not_ something I had planned on, that I wouldn't let myself even think that was a possibility, even though it explained everything. I guess I can't be in denial anymore."

Greef tries to be helpful, but has no clue what to say to make this better. “At least you know for certain, now.”

She takes a deep breath and rises from the couch as she’s come to a decision. "I'll have my stuff packed up if you could just give me until the end of the week, Greef."

That was definitely not what he was expecting her to say. "Wait. Where are you going?" he asks, clearly not following her logic.

"I gotta find a new apartment. Part of our deal was the living accommodations."

"I'm still not following you." He must look more than a little confused because she spells it out for him instead of just snapping at him.

"I can't work as your enforcer anymore. I'm sorry to renege on our agreement."

"But why does that mean you have to move?” he asks in shock. “Where will you go?"

“If I can't work, that means I can't pay you. You give me room and board and three meals a day in exchange for my service. Without it, I can't pay rent, or utilities, or even food from the bar for that matter. I'll find another place further out toward the edge of town. "I'm sure I can get another job doing.....something."

_What the fuck is she thinking_? He asks himself. "I think that's a horrible idea,” he tells her seriously.

"Yeah, me too," she admits, "but I don't see any other options. I'll get you the money for the rest of this week's rent once I get back on my feet, I swear. You know I'm good for it." 

Seeing this strong and independent woman he's come to call friend have everything fall apart in just a few minutes wasn't something he could just sit by and watch happen. Losing her place, her access to clean water and food just to go try to find another job with someone who won't give two shits about her working in her condition isn’t something he can stomach. Greef remembered the first time he'd come over to her place she rented from him to make sure she didn't need anything. He recalled the look of pride on her face as she showed off her handful of possessions from her satchel sitting proudly on the single piece of furniture--a bookcase--in the otherwise empty space. "I haven't had a place to put my stuff in a long time, this is great," she had told him, and her smile was as brilliant as he’d ever seen it. She had been so proud of that empty run-down place. Mysteriously, a disassembled bed frame, a dresser, a few chairs, and a fold up table magically showed up on her porch periodically the next few weeks after that. How strange…..

"Look, don't you worry about rent right now,” he tells her, like it’s no big deal. “You have other things to worry about.”

She bristles at that just as he knew she would. "I can't accept your charity or your pity, boss man. I don't want to live on handouts."

He raises a hand and rubs the palm hard against his eyes. “My eyes have been giving me trouble lately, you know.”

She looks at him curiously. _What the hell did that have to do with anything?_ she thinks.

“I'm going to need a lot more help with the books--some of the clerical stuff and finances. I hate that shit.” She’s giving him a glare but he keeps going. “You'd _really_ be doing me a favor. I'm an old man……Don't make me work too hard with these poor old eyes.”

"You've never worked too hard a day in your life,” she tells him, as always. That joke never gets old.

“And I don't want to start now,” he retorts, “so help a friend out, would you? I could really use the help.”

She knew exactly what he was doing. She couldn’t decide if she was more touched or more mortified, but she wasn't exactly in a position to call him on his bullshit. She doesn’t really have any argument except one. "I'll go insane sitting at a desk."

"If you need to stretch your legs there are sensors and gauges around the city that need monitoring and replacement periodically."

"Your eyes _are_ pretty bad,” she admits with heavy sarcasm. “Thank you for definitely _not_ giving me a handout.”

“I'd never even consider it” he reminds her. “I know how proud you are.”

There was no doubt what this was but she couldn’t question it too much or he might retract it. He was proud too.

Another ten minutes go by as they sit in silence in the room; the only sound, some of the small desert critters running and chittering outside the door.

“I have no clue what to do here,” she says, and he knows exactly what she’s referring to.

“Start small, no more drinking,” he offers up as a starting place.

"I haven't in months,” she tells him. “As soon as the thought even brushed my mind I stopped, just in case it was true."

"Okay, that’s a good start,” he tells her clearly impressed. “Less fighting, then."

She already gave up her job just now since it carried too much risk. She was trying, but that one was harder. “That's who I am though. How do I give up the only that gives me any worth?”

"That's not who you _are_ , that's something you _do_. There's a big difference."

She sighs and puts her face back in her hands. 

"This wasn't the plan,” she says as if it sums up everything perfectly--the surprise, the fear, the uncertainty, the sudden change in her identity—all of it/

Greef seems to have a better grasp on this concept and offers his little bit of advice. "Cara, look. Life hardly happens according to plan, and some of the best things are surprises that hit you when you least expect it.”

“I guess......” She hated it when he was right, or he had a rare moment of wise philosophy. 

"What do you mean _you guess_?" He laughs, and pats her on the back. "Don’t you know I'm always right?"

"You're always _annoying_ , that's a better descriptor." She makes fun of him as often as she can but she’s glad he’s here, so she goes easy on him.

She’s surprised by how comforting he’s being. He’s almost convinced her she can do this. "Everything's going to be fine girl, you'll see."

"What do I do about Din?” she asks him. “He'll hate me if he finds out I knew and didn't raise hell to get in touch with him."

"You're right about the very real risk to the kid--the _other_ green fuzzy kid, I mean,” he tells her. “I have a feeling your path and his will cross again one day. I've known him for years. I could see how reluctant he was to leave you behind. I don't think this is the last we'll hear from him. He'll understand. Reaching out would put you at risk too, he wouldn't want that."

A moment later she raised her head as Greef laughed out of nowhere.

"What?" she asks him. “You going senile over there?"

"It makes sense now,” he said. “When the doctor left, he shook my hand and said congratulations. He thought ---”

“No offense Greef, you're just not my type.”

“I know. I'm not nearly quiet or broody enough and I don't wear a shiny helmet on my---Ow, Cara, that would have hurt," he said, as he ducked out of the way of a projectile at the last second. 

Cara laughed at how dramatic he was being. The cup she had thrown while laughing at his nerve had barely grazed him. Didn’t he know when she missed on purpose? _What a baby._

A baby......

……………………..

She offers that Din can stay at her house for the time being, so he returns with some crates and bags filled with his belongings as well as the kid's. Bean is so honestly and purely happy to see her, it warms her heart to see his ears go up and stay there. She holds him but it's different than how she held him before, given her different shape. He keeps touching her belly that he's practically sitting on against her chest and his confused face is the cutest thing she's seen in a long time. His big eyes don't know whether to focus on her face or the moving surface underneath him.

"You think he gets it?" she asks Din from across the table, when Bean presses his face against her belly and lays his ear across her.

"I learned his kind are really sensitive to the life force of all living things,” Din replies. “He probably understands it better than we do."

Several minutes go by in silence until she can’t take it and breaks the stalemate.

"Well, this is awkward,” she states, “what do you want to talk about first?"

Din leans across the table to show he’s all ears, without being pushy. "Tell me everything."

"I couldn't believe it," she starts, but that's not quite right so she modifies her statement. "I _wouldn't_ believe it. It was there in front of my face, but I wouldn't believe it could be possible. I was in total denial. It wasn’t until the evidence became too overwhelming to ignore and the changes in my body were clear to anyone passing by, that I finally allowed myself to accept the truth--not because it didn't _want_ it to be true, but it was too incredible to be real.....”

She watches as he listens closely as she regales him with the full story of how Greef had convinced her to see a doctor 6 weeks after his departure and all that followed. 

“I saw you fighting right alongside me six months ago,” he says, as the timeline starts to make sense. “I even saw you hit the deck during the explosion. Is she okay?”

“Yes, she’s fine,” she tells him so he can stop worrying. “If it happened now it would be a very different story, but she was an inch long--just a little bean then—and totally protected deep in there."

They both smile as the kid’s ears perk up at hearing his name in passing.

Cara smooths a hand over his head and lays down the fuzz on his ears that's sticking up all over the place. "Not you Bean,” she assures him, and watches as his ears go back down and he relaxes.

Din waits until she finishes her story before speaking again. "I don't know where we stand but I know I messed up by leaving."

She doesn’t want to turn this into an argument, but she has to let him know she doesn’t blame him.

"No, you didn't,” she assures him, “you helped the kid by finding people that want to protect him too. That's great. What did you learn?"

Din tells her about the Jedi and what he learned about the potential his foundling--his son-- has. 

"What can I do to help make up for all the time I lost?” Din asks. “I want to contribute but I don't know where I stand. Do you actually want me here? I don't want to make it worse.”

"Look, Din. I'm too hot, too big, too uncomfortable, and too moody to try to figure out feelings right now. We'll get there, but I have to focus on the end game right now, keep my eye on the prize and all that. I only have another month left, maybe less."

The fuzzy green kid on her belly is turning his head back and forth to watch them talk. He's just pleased they're in the same space.

"I can help around the house at the very least,” he offers, as something small he can help with. “I can't cook worth a damn, but I can make soup or a salad and help clean up."

She smiles at him and how sincerely he wants to help.

“One thing I want to get straight. I don't want you to feel like you HAVE to be here--like you owe it to me or something ridiculous like that. I CAN do this myself, but I won't turn you away if you want to be here. She's yours too, but I was resigned to knowing I’d probably never see you again, so I made things work just relying on myself."

“Not everything is about _her_. I want to be here with you too," he tells her.

He makes it sound so easy. She wants to make sure he knows what he’s in for if he stays with her the next month. "I'm not going to be an ideal living partner. I wasn't kidding—I’m moody as hell, hormonal, sweaty, grouchy....my feet are swollen and my back is killing me. I'm going to be a total bitch for the next month."

He seems nonplussed. "I can handle it, Cara. You're not going to scare me away if that's what you're trying to do, but if you want me to go to make it less stressful, I will....."

“I don't want you to go. I really am happy to see you,” she tells him and means it. “Everything always been so easy, I’m not sure how this changes things, to be honest.”

"It doesn't really change all that much,” he insists. “You're still the most important person to me. I still care about you. I still wanted to return to you. I still missed your smart mouth."

She smiles at him, but it doesn’t really reach her eyes. She’s trying though. “I’m going to start dinner,” she tells him, as she tries to awkwardly fight her way up off the chair. “You can hang out, get comfortable, walk around…..whatever.”

Din sees the vegetables laying out on the counter and how hard she’s struggling to get up without asking for help. “I'll do it,” he offers. “It gives me something to do and you can take your shoes off."

She wants to argue since she’s already gotten out of the chair—she can feel it almost out of her lips--but her feet really do hurt. _She can let him have this one thing_ , she supposes. "What do you say kid, you want to sit on the couch with me for a minute?"

The kid’s big eyes are pretty convincing, but Din still feels the need to chime in. “Just hold him for a minute on the couch, he missed you. Let me do this one small thing.”

"If I let you help out, you'll feel less guilty?” she asks him.

"Maybe,” he admits, “it's a start at least." 

She huffs out a puff of air in defeat, but heads over to the couch and eases herself down onto it with the green bean in her lap. 

"Okay. But this isn't going to become a thing, just so you know."

When Din’s done washing and cutting everything, he turns back to her to ask what the next step is but she’s fast asleep on the couch, her head tilted back and resting gently on the cushion. Her face was totally relaxed and the kid in her arms had nestled down to sleep too. He turned back to the kitchen to finish dinner to the best of his ability and wait for her to wake up.

…………………………..

It was surprisingly easy the way they fell back in sync with each other. Neither one pushed to talk about anything too deep but the way they still felt about each other was clear. They divided everything around the house evenly and Cara hated to admit it had made things so much easier the more uncomfortable she became as her due date rapidly approached.

Din seemed so happy in this domestic scene and they all but gravitated toward each other as the days marched on. He even rubbed her back when the discomfort got the better of her, but she hated how she had to rest on her hands and knees since laying on her stomach or back was impossible.

She had tried kneeling but her sciatic pain was too bad and the feeling as he rubbed down her spine as she leaned forward on all fours was sublime.

“Thank you….for all of this,” she tells him as she feels some of the pressure melt away under his hands.

“For what, the backrub?” he asks her, “I told you I—"

“No, not just the backrub. For being here when you didn't have to be.”

“I want to be,” he says. He tells her all the time, but she doesn’t seem to believe it’s the truth.

She snorts at him. “This isn't exactly a glamorous way to spend the night. I look like a bantha like this, and almost the same size.”

“You're not nearly as hairy,” he says over her shoulder, and it makes her laugh.

“Yes, I am. I haven't been able to reach my legs in weeks. I don't even know where my razor is.”

He helps her stand so he can look in her face. His helmet was on, but he looked as directly in her eyes as he was able. "Cara, you make it sound like I'm giving up this amazing glamorous life of fighting and danger but this is what all the fighting is _for_ \--to live in peace---to have moments like _this_ \---to have a family."

He looks at her so intensely it makes her feel warm.

“You look amazing, you know.”

She scoffs and shakes her head at his ridiculous words. “Don't lie. I'm huge.”

“Your body is amazing: so strong, so resilient, so versatile, so nurturing. So what, if you’re bigger? You’re supposed to be. You have a whole other person living inside of you. That’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.”

He doesn’t even realize that his hand was resting against her cheek. He sees the stretch marks along the sides and tops of her breasts that weren’t covered by her flimsy bralette and lets his hand run along their silky edges. It’s not sexual but immensely sensual and she closes her eyes as he worships the flaws she sees in the mirror everyday. He traces another set of silvery lines down the sides of her rounded stomach and spreads his palms over the lines under her navel and around her hips. “You are _so_ beautiful like this—rounder, and fuller, and softer, but somehow even stronger and more powerful. Your skin is glowing and your hair is shiny and you feel so warm to the touch; all the while you’re giving a tiny person everything they need to survive. How can _you_ not be in awe of you right now? You're like a goddess.” She can't believe she’s actually blushing at his words.

She tries to come up with something to say to all _that_ but she can’t manage a good comeback. “Seen a lot of goddesses, have you?”

“Just you.”

She rests her hand against the base of his helmet and relishes in how cool it is, but it’s not what she wants. “Can I touch your cheek when we lay down?” she asks him. She'd never ask him to take off the helmet, but he did every night anyway when they went to sleep. Tonight, she just wanted to touch his face; she wanted to feel his beard again. It had been eight months since she had really touched his face on purpose. 

He pulls away from her to go turn off the lights, plunging the room into total darkness, before finding his way back to her outstretched hand like a lighthouse. He removes the helmet and they walk to the bed.

He helps her arrange the 6 pillows it takes to keep her comfortable: one under her chest, one under her belly, one behind her and under her hips, one between her knees, one under her head, and another one under her ankles. She has to lay on her side, so he lays down in the bed beside her, close enough she can reach out and touch his face. He can feel the curve of her belly pressed against his.

"I'm glad you're here,” she tells him, as her hand caresses the side of his face and rakes through his beard he’s let get longer than she remembers.

“Me too. There's nowhere I'd rather be." The sound of his unaltered voice always gets her. 

Before she can overthink or overanalyze it, she closes the small gap between them and kisses him sweetly and he responds--their lips pressing gently together, unhurried and soft.

They pull apart and Din runs his hand through her hair until she falls asleep. He stays up to feel their daughter move and roll until she too settles down, and it’s only after he hears the kid's snores from his bed in the corner, does he let himself fall asleep as well.

………………………

The month flies by and she both looked forward to and dreaded the process she knew she'd have to endure to bring this child into the world. Din put on a brave face under his helmet and tried to exude confidence, but she could see even he was on edge when her due date came and went.

The women of the village had convinced her what a beautiful experience the birth would be, but the beautiful earth-mother experience surrounded by flowers and chirping birds wasn’t exactly what she ended up with. Bean was off in the corner watching with large eyes as all the excitement unfolded. The sights, sounds, and smells must have been scary for him but he refused to be moved from the room the whole time. For such a little guy, he sure put up a hell of a fuss when Din tried to shield him from the worst of it. Some part of her was glad they were all together--Afterall, the kid is what brought them together in the first place.

Those lying bitches from the village told her she’d feel strong and powerful, but she had never felt so powerless and _not_ in control in her life. _Where were the flowers and the singing birds she was promised?_ She only remembers pain and Din's voice yelling at the midwife about how much blood she’d lost. The only _beauty_ in labor was at the end when they laid her baby--pink and wriggly and screaming--on her chest. _So that’s what all the fuss was about,_ she thought. _Okay, maybe it was kind of beautiful after all._

Din sat behind her, where apparently, he’d been the whole time to keep her supported against him and to help hold her legs when she couldn’t muster the strength. She could hardly imagine anything more mortifying than how weak she must have appeared, but his voice displayed nothing but awe and amazement as he spoke. “I thought there was no way I could ever be more impressed than when you knocked me on my ass before I even knew your name, but I was wrong. You are the strongest woman I've ever seen. I've never seen anything like what you just did, and I’ve never seen anything like _this_ ,” he says, as he peers over her shoulder to look at their child that was still naked against her chest. “She's perfect Cara.” A banket appears out of nowhere for her to cover herself with but she doesn’t care about herself; she covers the squalling little girl instead.

The months that followed were filled with a combination of sleepless nights and long days that bled into one another with almost no sense of time. She'd never been so grateful for Din’s presence as she was now. He held Lyssa endlessly, rocked her to sleep, and placed her in Cara’s arms to nurse when she was too tired to barely sit up. 

It felt easy--unrushed, unhurried, and natural--getting to know one another again. Taking care of a newborn was hard and terrifying and infinitely more difficult than she thought, but behind the new changing landscape of her life there was Din--steadfast and comforting. With Din at least, it was easy. They were catching up where they left off but at the same time felt like they never really separated to begin with. Their connection was still as deep and as strong as it had ever been and now it had another dimension behind it. There was something real and alive and perfect that bound them together—a something that was currently wailing because she wanted to be held.

Their relationship wasn't really something they tried to iron out, but they seemed to figure it without words, just as they had always done. It was comforting that some things never changed. They understood what the other one was thinking and needed and acted accordingly, almost seamlessly, just as they had months ago. There were no positions of power to leverage and no weird gender roles--just two people who were a united front and found pleasure in each other's company and reveling in the creation they managed to bring to life. It was only at night, lying side by side in bed, either one dared to reminisce too closely about how the little one came to be. That was dangerous.....

Time flew, but barely a season had gone by when a tip came in for Gideon's whereabouts that after a long conversation they both decided was worth the great risk to follow. Din knew what he stood to lose should he fail but he couldn’t let this opportunity pass by. Cara had argued about not coming with him, but understood one of them had to remain should the worst happen. Perhaps the threat to their daughter as well as their son was the motivation they needed to finally bring the fight to him. Din kissed Cara and the kids, left full of worry, and returned a new man. 

“I can’t believe he’s gone,” Din said when he returned, feeling years younger and more secure his family was safe.

“Me neither,” Cara replied, more relieved than she could say.

“He might actually be safe now,” Din said referring to their boy. “Really safe, or at least getting there.”

He could see the happiness and pride on her face at his victory.

“I was thinking,” he whispered to her in bed that night after they’d made love upon his return, “When Lyssa is older, would you like to go see the beginnings of this Jedi temple I visited before? Being in the Crest again without you wasn’t the same. What do you say, some adventure sprinkled into our quiet life?”

“The quiet life is growing on me,” she replied, “but I want to see the kid among people like him. I’d love to see him truly in his element. What about when she turns one? Sort of a birthday present, maybe.”

“Flying across uncharted space as a toddler to see a race of sorcerers, that’s a hell of a birthday present,” he declares.

“You really think we can have both?” she asks, “the quiet life and a life of adventure.”

“We can have whatever we want,” he tells her. “Look at what we’ve already got. A few years ago, this seemed impossible and yet here we are.”

“I’ll need to tune up my blaster,” she says, with a mischievous glint in her eye at the idea of getting in some target practice.

“I’m way ahead of you. I took it with me so a part of you would be there when I took him down, and it’s clean and tuned up.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Djarin. You know how I love to shoot things.”

He laughs and whispers in her ear, “What can I say? I know what you like.”

She laughs, kisses him hard, and slides a bare leg in between his. “Show me again, I need a reminder.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you all for reading!  
> If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving a comment. I'd really appreciate it.  
> writing has really been a labor of love and it's been much harder to find time than it used to be. 
> 
> thanks guys!
> 
> the followup to the AU is finishing up soon, so that'll be the next think I get out hopefully, before moving onto some shorter stuff.
> 
> Once I had a draft of this, I noticed Skyereads already used the name Lyssa in her story, but I couldn't change it once I had it written so here we are :/ Go read her story if you haven't, it's great :)


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